


Entrusted

by wreathed



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Military, Porn With Plot, Role Reversal, Role-Playing Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wreathed/pseuds/wreathed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I was wondering if we could do something slightly different.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Sir? By all the indications you have given me, I have not left you wanting.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entrusted

They have fallen into a routine of sorts. They work alongside each other late into the night, until, at some point that he determines, Washington calls for Hamilton to stop writing and asks him to present his day’s work to Washington for Washington to read over. 

Most nights, Washington orders Hamilton to strip out of all his clothes and get on his hands and knees in front of Washington’s chair, and Washington props up his riding boot-clad feet on Hamilton’s back as he reads, as if Hamilton is part of the furniture. Initially at these junctures, Hamilton had begged Washington to let him do something of more use, or else enquired as to whether his work was satisfactory, but Washington had assured him that he was of most use to him like this in these instances, and ordered him quiet. With a moan, Hamilton had bit his lip to stop himself from talking, and realized he was left with little choice but to let his mind drift free of intellectual consideration. Nowadays, he was accustomed deeply to the ritual, welcoming the time of day when he had no role except a silent body beloved by his commander, and most nights he positioned himself only to grow harder and harder as Washington sat and read, knowing what came afterwards. Imagining Washington releasing over his back with him still positioned like this, marking him, imagining Washington pulling him up by the scruff of his neck and forthrightly stuffing his erection into his open, waiting, drooling, mouth, imagining–

“My dear Hamilton. Is your mind present? I was wondering if we could do something slightly different.”

“Sir? By all the indications you have given me, I have not left you wanting.”

“Relax, Hamilton, I am merely curious. I was a young soldier once.”

“Sir, you did not–?”

“Alas, Hamilton, until I met you my proclivities were not so strong I could not deny acting upon them.”

A strange combination of sadness and pride swell in Hamilton’s belly at his commander’s words.

Steadily, Washington clears his throat and looks down at Hamilton, for Hamilton is still on all fours upon the floor. “Command can be trying. I was wondering – stand up, Hamilton please – I was wondering whether we might… reverse our roles for a short time. Where you call me soldier, and I call you…”

“Oh, sir, I could not–” Hamilton protests, now as close to eye to eye with Washington as he ever could be, which is nevertheless some distance away.

“What did I just say,” Washington says, putting his finger to Hamilton’s lips.

“Soldier,” Hamilton attempts, trying to be as curt as his general wants him to be tonight. It seems so wrong to reduce the head of the Continental Army to so little.

He has to take several deep breaths before holding his hand forward and gently pushing Washington to his knees. Washington looks up at him as if he is powerful, and his stomach swoops.

“Is this where you want me, sir?” Washington asks him in his deep voice – he cannot keep the sound of command out even when he is asking such an acquiescent question, even when he is all but between Hamilton’s legs, and Hamilton can barely stand the exquisiteness of it.

“Quiet, soldier,” Hamilton says, watching as Washington shudders as the words roll over him. “Your mouth is more use to me another way.” Pressing down on his cock for some brief relief, Hamilton then takes it out of his breeches, beckons the general forward on his knees – _what a sight_ – and watches as Washington leans forward to take him in his mouth.

He is attentive, filling himself with Hamilton absolutely; he does not tease or lick, but takes him deeply, sucking a keen and effective pressure. It is like how a soldier of lower rank might in actuality service a commander more unscrupulous than Washington was himself.

Washington comes off him with a soft sound. His lips look well-used, and Hamilton feels overcome with desire. “Is there anything else you require of me, sir?” Washington says, his eyes downcast to the floor.

“This is quite sufficient,” Hamilton says, feeling the flush of his body, the pricking of sweat at the backs of his knees; he had been _so_ close to finishing. “Please, go back to what you were doing.”

“Hamilton,” Washington whispers, now looking up until their eyes meet.

“Yes, sir?” Hamilton replies.

“This is not all I do with you, is it? Many nights we have together?” Washington raises his eyebrows from his position between Hamilton’s spread legs, and Hamilton feels a sweep of surprised pleasure rush through his chest.

“Sir? You truly wish for me to–?”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Washington replies.

“Lie down on the cot, good soldier,” Hamilton says, hardening his features back into what he hopes is an authoritative air even as his heart thumps hard in his chest. “I will fetch the oil.”

Hamilton takes his time removing each and every item of Washington's clothing – from his boots upwards, carefully folding his coat and setting it down so that the buttons align with the edge of the breeches beneath it. He is being so careful, so exacting, so deliberately _slow_ , yet all this time Washington does not push nor say a word, just stays where he is, watching.

It has been some time since Hamilton has last seen the general completely naked, in part as it has been so cold of late, in part as Hamilton is usually so desperate to please Washington by nightfall that he only unbuttons the bare minimum of fastenings required to give him pleasure.

Slicking his fingers, Hamilton sits in front of where Washington spreads his legs apart for him, his eyes dark as he looks first at Hamilton, then up to the ceiling.

He runs his finger over Washington’s hole, then in, and watches the general’s cheeks color as his mouth falls slack. Hamilton feels like a powerful man, now, in this context, in this moment.

Hamilton stays slow. He takes his time until he has three fingers, curled slightly, inside Washington, and he is watching Washington twisting his head from side to side and breathing long and low – Hamilton focuses for the moment on the rise and fall of Washington’s broad chest. He does his best to ignore the throb of his aching cock, still hard since being brought so close by Washington’s mouth, distending his shirt tails, his breeches pushed down to the tops of his boots, but it is getting increasingly more difficult to ignore his pressing need as Washington uses his legs, held wide and bent at the knees on the relatively short length of the cot, to try and leverage himself further down onto Hamilton’s fingers. Yet, somehow, Washington still engages in this with more reservedness and less wanton abandon than Hamilton does when he is at the end of his commander’s administrations near-nightly.

“You can hurry after taking your time in preparation,” Washington says, then he groans, then looks at Hamilton right in the eye. “A general should be swift in the field where it counts. To take his adversary by surprise–”

“Hush. We must not alert the remainder of the camp to our activities, Private,” Hamilton says, watching Washington’s eyes widen, and Hamilton _smirks_ , relaxing a little. Moving forward from his previous position, he pushes off his boots and breeches, kneels between Washington’s long, shapely legs, removes his stock from around his neck and, upon a infinitesimal nod from Washington, stuffs it in Washington’s mouth.

Leaning over him, he presses kisses all the way around the line of Washington’s lips. “This may hurt, soldier,” he says quietly, into Washington’s ear. “But I will be gentle with you until I know you are alright.”

Hamilton may be smaller than Washington, but he uses his youth and athleticism to his advantage to slide gently but firmly – at _last_ – inside him. Washington grunts around the stock, and Hamilton does not, with a stab of worry through his heart, want to _hurt_ him, but what he is doing feels so good, and Washington has directly asked for this, so Hamilton slides out again and then part way in once more, until he is engaged in a series of shallow thrusts. Amazed, he rests his fingers gently against where they join together, and Washington shifts with pleasure against the gentle touch.

Hamilton tries a harder thrust, all the way in this time, and watches Washington’s head fall back in pleasure, the resulting exposure of his neck. Washington feels so hot and tight around him he has to pause there, and look upwards to stop himself from spilling too soon.

When his eyes flick down again, he is met with the gratifying sight of Washington’s cock, large and at a slight angle to the left where it lies against his taut stomach. Breathing hard, Washington shudders beneath him, and pleads to Hamilton with his eyes, since his mouth is otherwise occupied.

Hamilton gains further traction by gripping Washington’s strong, spread thighs, then takes Washington again and again, puffing out quick breaths through his parted lips, listening to the cut-off sounds Washington is making, muffled by the fabric. Washington’s eyes are half-lidded, and he looks undignified, or at least he would think it undignified, but Hamilton thinks it cannot truly be, since he is just as much in awe of Washington like this as he is the rest of the time. 

“You take the efforts of your commander well,” Hamilton gasps out, feeling himself once more close to the end. “I must reward – ah – oh, God – I must reward you.”

Hamilton drives himself in hard as he takes Washington in his slick hand, stroking him quickly and firmly in time to his own movements, and Washington gives out a long, throaty whine as his seed covers his own chest. At the sight, Hamilton follows soon after, feeling the sudden and absolute rush of his release inside Washington, then slumping forward in satisfied exhaustion. He pulls out, moves to squeeze in beside Washington, who is looking the most relaxed Hamilton has seen him for some time. He then retrieves his stock (for, thrillingly, Washington has still not done this for himself) and uses it to clean some of the mess from Washington’s chest. A foolish waste of clothing, perhaps, during wartime, but Hamilton is too sated to move to anywhere else but here, and Washington does not especially seem to notice.

“Oh, sir,” Hamilton says breathily, for Washington has let his eyes close, and Hamilton wishes to ensure their relationship was truly intact before their slumber. “I could barely make myself call you just ‘soldier’! You must know that I respect you most fervently and I do not wish, outside of this context, to be unduly insubordinate–” 

“You could have fooled me, Hamilton,” Washington says. Hamilton immediately opens his mouth to protest, until he sees that Washington is smiling. “I found this a highly diverting exercise.”

“I am glad I could relieve the weight of this war from your shoulders, sir,” Hamilton tells him quietly, pulling the blanket over them and leaning into Washington to rest his head on his sweat-slick shoulder. “Even if only for a short time.”

“I do not know where I would be without you, Hamilton,” Washington replies. “And so, in spite of the pleasure we have both found tonight, I am happy to return to our usual routine tomorrow. After all, we cannot enter a set of circumstances where you leave me unable to ride a horse.”

“Sir, I must protest,” Hamilton says. “You regularly leave me barely able to concentrate whilst riding, as every movement serves to remind me of the night previous.”

“Ah, but you are a young man, Hamilton,” Washington responds sleepily. “Your riding both on and off a horse is exemplary.”

“Sir,” Hamilton says, in admonishment only of a good-willed nature, and falls asleep content.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://wreathedwith.tumblr.com/).


End file.
